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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243282">Stand Still Stay Silent: The Last Frontier - The Alaska Chapters</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenShyly/pseuds/AshenShyly'>AshenShyly</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Stand Still Stay Silent</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Alternate Location, F/M, No SSSS-Comic Characters</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>Completed</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-07-13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-07-18</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-05 04:27:49</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>Graphic Depictions Of Violence, No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>3</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>3,741</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/25243282</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/AshenShyly/pseuds/AshenShyly</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>America's Last Frontier, is America's Last Survivor . . .</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>1</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>7</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. Disclaimer - Please Read</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>BIG Disclaimer from the Author. [Because people on the internet are sometimes assholes.]</p>
<p>I cannot STRESS THIS ENOUGH.</p>
<p>This fanfic is a product of enjoyment, recreation, and admiration for a wonderful piece of art created by Hummingfluff/Minna Sundberg the original creator of the Stand Still Stay Silent setting. This setting was created by her, and I take no credit for anything other than the subsetting I'm about to write about.</p>
<p>On the same note, Minna Sundberg has no obligation to put my characters, story, and setting tweaks in her works. The end. Do not harass her about it.</p>
<p>I will be staying as close to Minna's original vision for the setting as possible, mages cast no flashy spells. No-one will magically find the cure to the rash. And for simplicity's sake, the Alaskans will have similar technology just to keep things easier to follow. It will be fairly balanced. I promise.</p>
<p>Though most times I will be sticking to things that don't seem too outlandish, some thing should be new and fresh somewhere else in the world.</p>
<p>If anyone shares the appearances or names of these fictional characters, it's just coincidence and they will not change.</p>
<p>Any religions and peoples depicted in this setting were the ones that made the most sense in my brain both from a logical perspective and from personal perspective. There could be other ethnicities and religions in the setting, but the ones I have chosen ARE the ones I have chosen.</p>
<p>All jokes are made in good fun.</p>
<p>Any nasty comments lobbed at me or any other person will be removed peroid.</p>
<p>There should be an amount of suspension of disbelief. SSSS has massive catbus tanks, nordic wizards, ghosts, an afterlife, and hyperintelligent military sniffer cats. Some unique things to this setting will be true to source, but have it's own flavor as well.</p>
<p>In the end this is a journey about people going around killing zombies and having fun magic interactions along the way, plus cats.</p>
<p>IF you have a helpful and polite comments to make that helps me mold the setting here better then you are welcome to leave suggestions and help.</p>
<p>In short, be nice, be constructive with any criticism, let's not talk about current events, and let's escape to a fictional world to kick some infected spooks in the tush.</p>
<p>-Author: AshenShyly</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. World Building: Attention Recruit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .</p><p>Any disclaimers and warnings are in Chapter 00, if you are skipping ahead and have not read it, please do so. As I am not going to repeat them anywhere else.</p><p>The short of it; Keep your politics, religious disagreements, and generally ill-mooded comments, to yourself.</p><p>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .</p><p>Attention Private,</p><p>Congratulations on your graduation in the Military Academy of the Gulf. You represent the hope of our budding nation.</p><p>You and the other graduates of your class a have been chosen to deploy within the month and are instructed to prepare accordingly.</p><p>The following items are all standard issue for all soldiers when first assigned to a platoon. Pick them up as soon as you receive this letter and the offices are open.</p><p>You must have all these items tailored to your specialization on your person before you depart.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Soldier's Uniform: 1 blue cloth and gold trimmed jacket with your union patch on the right shoulder, navy blue turtleneck, 1 pair of black slacks with suspenders, 1 leather belt, 1 pair of calf-height wool socks, and 1 pair of Union-issued combat boots with steel toes and heels, 1 pair of white military gloves, and one holster for your combat knife.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Ranger's Uniform: 1 10-gallon cowboy hat, 1 brown leather duster with your union patch on the right shoulder, 1 black turtleneck, 1 dark brown slack pants with suspenders, 1 pair of black calf-height wool socks, 1 pair of Union-issued steel toed ranger's boots, 1 holster for a combat knife,  1 pair of white military gloves, and 1 union-issued bandolier.</p><p>Ranger's Office Issued Messenger-Scout Bag: Your scout bag should be empty upon arrival, supplies will be handed out to you by your senior ranger officer.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Fireman's Uniform: 1 red raincoat with reflector patches and union patch on right shoulder, 1 black turtleneck, 1 pair of black slacks with suspenders, 1 pair of black calf-height wool socks, 1 pair of white military gloves, and 1 pair of Union-issued steel toed fireman's uniform boots.</p><p>Union-issued Fireman's Work Uniform: 1 bright orange flame repellant firesuit jacket, 1 bright orange flame repellant firesuit pants, 1 pair of heavy duty fireman's boots, 1 rebreather fire-department issued gas mask approved for safe use, 1 oxygen pack for fire rebreather co-opt use, 1 fire-department issued heavy-duty helmet. Your reflector patches on your suit should be secure and not unraveling, if unraveling please see the uniform department!</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Priest Uniform: 1 church habit with the union patch on right shoulder, 1 black turtleneck, 1 pair of thin black pants, 1 belt buckle, 1 pair of ankle-height wool socks, 1 pair of black Union-issued steel plated short boots, and 1 pair of white gloves.</p><p>Church's Tools: 1 sanctified bottle for holy water, 1 rosary with cross, 1 copy of the holy book, 1 crucifix for personal quarters, 1 censer and choice of incense, 1 stack of candles, and what other items the brother/sister in question may need.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Medic's Uniform: 1 white and red trimmed jacket with union patch on right shoulder, 1 grey pair of slacks with suspenders, 1 pair of calf-height grey wool socks, 1 holster for combat knife, 1 pair of Union-issued steel toed medic boots, and 1 pair of white gloves.</p><p>Doctor's Bag: 1 hospital issued doctors bag with all neccisary tools and contents. Approval by unit's head doctor required.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Engineer's Uniform: 1 brown jacket with gold trim, 1 black turtleneck, 1 standard black shirt, 1 pair of black jean overalls, 1 pair of ankle-height black wool socks, 1 pair of standard Union-issued steel-toed boots, and one pair of black elbow-length leather gloves.</p><p>Engineer's Goggles: You will receive one pair of military standard goggles for work in the engine rooms across your platoon's campaign.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Shaman's Uniform: 1 robe with clan animal embroidered on back and union patch on front right pectoral area, 1 black turtleneck, 1 pair of slack pants with suspenders, 1 pair of black calf-height black wool socks, 1 pair of Union-issued steel toed standard boots, 1 pair of black fingerless gloves, and 1 pair of mittens.</p><p>Shaman Tools: A shaman may pack any items he or she wishes to use or find useful from their clan. Ritual items, masks, rattles, and drums.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Union Witch's Uniform: 1 gambler-style black leather hat, 1 black blouse, 1 black vest with union pouch on front right pectoral, 1 leather belt, 1 blue (or black) split skirt, 1 black cape, 1 pair of thigh-length socks, 1 waist holster for your athame, 1 pair of Union-issued steel-toed thigh-high boots, and one pair of black gloves with pentagram/moon engraving.</p><p>Witch Tools: Crystals, ritual wand, Athame blade, pentacle medallion/pendant/bracelet, censer and incense, engraving tools, and whatever else the wiccan has been approved for.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>Platoon-standard Union Issued Dufflebag: Your gear should come with one, standard size state-issued dufflebag. Blue with gold trim and a patch with our flag and subflag!</p><p>Your uniform must be snug and in no danger of coming loose. Your undershirts and pants must be snug, your shirt tucked into your pants. Your suspenders must be in the appropriate cross-section configuration. Your socks will be buttoned to the inside of your boots. Your pants will be tucked down inside of your socks. Your holsters will be fastened belt buckle foreward, second buckle firmly around your right leg. Your jackets will be buttoned neatly and your coat-tails will be falling neat and straight.</p><p>On the day of your arrival your bag should contain; 1 toothbrush, 1 toothpaste tube, 1 deodorant powder of your choice, 1 padlock with two keys [1 for your superior], 1 hairbrush or comb, personal hygene items, your glasses [if you need them], your Union ID card, 2 pair of underwear [boxers for men, control briefs for women], 2 pair of athletic brasiers required for all female officers, 1 set of sleepwear, 1 set of athletic wear [shirt must be navy blue, bottoms must be black, running shoes must be black]. You may also include one item of your personal choice so long as it follows safety standards. IE; locket, picture, etc.</p><p>Any specialty items for specialist professions will be inspected by their specific officers, no other officer should be inspecting these bags.</p><p>Your superiors will issue you your firearms once you're officially on the job.</p><p>Be at Juneau Union Military docks buy 0400 hours on October 13th, Y90. If you are late by even a minute, you will risk being considered for dishonorable discharge.</p><p>-Admiral Taylor</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. The City of Rain</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .</p><p>Any disclaimers and warnings are in Chapter 00, if you are skipping ahead and have not read it, please do so. As I am not going to repeat them anywhere else.</p><p>The short of it; Keep your politics, religious disagreements, and generally ill-mooded comments, to yourself.</p><p>. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .</p><p>It has been 90 years since the end of the old world. The remnants of humanity cling to little pockets of their known world, rarely daring to venture too far from the safety of their towns. This tale takes place in a land perhaps familiar to some, but not familiar to most in this world.</p><p>A place once called The Last Frontier.</p><p>. . . . .</p><p>A pair of green eyes blink twice and are rubbed with the back of a free hand as the other holds the day's gazette. Aiden Moore, a young man around 20 years old stands in line at the New Alaskan Union's Central Military Office. He ruffles his dark brown hair semi-short and shaggy trying to stay awake. He was currently in his favorite long-sleeved black shirt under a cream turtleneck sweater. Wearing dark blue jeans with white socks and brushed gray leather derby shoes.</p><p>“Did you make a list? Nana says it helps.” a young man next to him spoke out loud, snapping Aiden out of his stupor. “My uncle made me write one weeks ago, and I thought that it may be a good idea for you to make one too.”</p><p>Next to Aiden was the young man who had addressed him with familiarity. His name was Blake Walker, he was 19, had black hair tied back in a medium ponytail, light tan skin, and his eyes were a light a warm brown. Blake had been his best friend through all of school, and well into the military academy when they both enlisted. Blake was a Tlingit. A member of the several Tlingit clans in the gulf area. There were other tribes besides the Tlingit sure, but he had only personally dealt with and interacted with Blake's family, and so had only slight inclinations into the Tlingit life in particular.</p><p>Blake was rocking a rather sharp looking red button-up shirt with a cut away collar. He had fancy black dress-slacks and a nice black embroidered cloak over all of it. It almost looked nice, until you looked at his feet. He wore the tackiest shoes and sock combo's Aiden had ever seen. Bright orange socks with blinding red moccasin shoes with the most god-awful color combo. Blue . . green . . purple . . other. They blurred together and made his eyes see spots with how loud the hues were.</p><p>“What. What are you wearing?” Aiden mumbled in a hush tone. His eyes glued on Blake's loud footwear. Then forced himself to blink and look away, the spots still following his eyes. The intercom around them was making announcements in English, French, Russian, and Japanese.</p><p>“They're my potlatch present from grandmother!” He wiggles his toes grinning at his shoes. “They are a very important part of my personality, they're made of bright colors because on a damp rainy day like this it cheers people up! And keep my toes nice and warm. It's the last time I'll be able to wear something comfortable for a long while.”</p><p>“You can bring pajamas you know. Maybe if you spin it good enough they'll let you have those! Wait, I take that back, please don't bring them.” Aiden groans. His stomach rumbled, remembering that maybe he should have made some eggs before he left. Maybe sourdough toast. </p><p>Blake sticks his tongue out. “Too late, now I'm tempted to do it out of spite.” He laughs at his best friend, the gap in his teeth causing a small whistle to pass through as he had fun at Aiden's expense.</p><p>The brunette stared at the line in front, there seemed to be a holdup at the counter. “So, did they have the clan's potlatch early?”</p><p>“No, I told them they shouldn't move the event with the other clan's, but we did have a small one between us this morning at breakfast.” Aiden watched out of the corner of his eye as his friend rocked back and fourth on his heels and toes. “Has this line moved since I got here?”</p><p>“This line was all the way outside the building when I got here at opening hours, had to stand outside in the rain. I saw some people get fed up and leave, I think they reckon they'll come back when it's not so long.” Aiden snickers as a couple more irritated men broke line and went out into the downpour. “Their mistake because office closes early on Sundays, it's going to be long the whole day through.”</p><p>“Better to be here sooner so you don't have to beat the foot traffic.” A few more minutes in silence, the giant windows out into the street saw people getting on and off the street trolley just outside. Blake sighs “I hope we get our gear in time to catch one of those, I don't want to walk in this storm.”</p><p>“You could dance to make it go away. Shake a leg or two, flap the cape around-” Aiden teases his best friend again. “You are a shaman after all, making the rain do your bidding is what you do.”</p><p>“We don't make it do our bidding . . we talk with the spirits. Appease them, or try to. If they feel like it they'll lighten the rain and let the sun in for maybe an hour. If they're mischievous they will make it heavier, and it'd last all week instead of the weekend.” Blake said as he and Aiden slowly shuffled forward with the line.</p><p>There was more than one line, but theirs was the only one that counted to them, because they were closer to the counter in this one than any other. The building they were in was a cold grey-blue concrete with stairs leading up to offices above. This was the Uniform Distribution Office. All members of any union military order had to come here to pick up or drop off a uniform.</p><p>A bit more shuffling and the two were third and fourth in line.</p><p>“Hey, once we drop the uniforms off at your house, want to do something before we depart tomorrow?” Blake asked.</p><p>“Like what?” Aiden asked as they became second and third.</p><p>The cogs in Blake's brain were turning, he could see it. They still had some leave time, duty didn't officially commence until four in the morning the next day. They'd have to go to sleep from anywhere between six or eight in the evening if they didn't want to be useless or suffer death by sergeant.</p><p>“I was thinking . .” Blake answers. First and second.</p><p>“You do a lot of that.” Aiden begins to move up. The man at the counter had gotten his outfit in a parcel package and it was now Aiden's turn.</p><p>“Next,” the clerk said boredom</p><p>“Thinking-” he could still hear Blake mumbling.</p><p>“Name” The clerk asked.</p><p>“Aiden Moore, standard uniform, no specialty.” he responds feeling the eyes of dozens of people behind him in line.</p><p>“ID Card.”</p><p>He pulls his ID from his wallet out of his pants pocket giving it to the clerk, she looks over the book in front of her face and stares at his ID, then back at the book, she turned a page, back and fourth. “Moore, Aiden, ah here you are.” she hands his ID back to him then turns around and shoves a parcel at him. “Remember to report to the docks by 0400 and have all you need in your duffel before-”</p><p>“Yes, thanks, I know!” he nods and scurry's off to the side to wait at a bench-</p><p>“Next.” There was a bit of silence followed by groans of people stuck behind Blake as he spaced out. “NEXT!”</p><p>“Think- AAH!” he watched Blake waddle over to the counter and talk. The clerk looking him up in the books too. </p><p>Aiden watched his friend conversing with the clerk for a bit, then turned his head as he sat on the bench. The street traffic in the rain consisted of mostly pedestrians, bicycles, and the occasional trolley. People walking out of the office caught sight of him and mutter to each other under their breaths, or in a different language. This didn't surprise him. He was the only child of a well-known family in the city. People had written news articles, books, and had done radio interviews with them for decades.</p><p>He wasn't the famous one, nor were his mother and father, and not even his grandparents. His family was famous because up until 13 years ago his family was home to the oldest living person in the Union. His great grandmother Ellinore Moore, was alive and a young woman during the rash outbreak and had been there first hand. She was the only reason his family got the attention it did. She was titled in all of the headlines regardless of paper as 'Elder Ellie'.</p><p>When Great-Gran became too senile and down in her health, the family made an official statement that the famous Elder Ellie would be receiving no more interviews. Not that it would stop the attempts. They tried every day, it became so stressful dealing with reporters camping out by their front door at the crack of dawn that they had to officially request the guard to change the patrols to include their street.</p><p>The last three years that Great-Gran Ellie was alive were some of the most peaceful days the family ever had in their own home. Until then people had been coming to and from the estate for decades. People bringing gifts to Elder Ellie, the reporters, hell even some mayoral candidates trying to get 'Elder Ellie's' approval to boost their campaign.</p><p>The only time the reporters re-emerged with anything to say was when Ellie had passed away in her sleep at the age of 98. There may have been some underhanded quip about the family being 'selfish' for keeping her from 'the rest of us' because 'she's a national treasure to all of us' and that may have caused his mom to go down to the newspaper publisher and punch the entitled she-reporter in the face.</p><p>The influence of Great-Gran didn't escape them even after her passing. People passed by their house to take pictures without permission. Some young man tried to sneak in and pluck a flower from his dad's garden to give to his crush waiting just outside. His parents kept getting stopped at the grocery market. They were bothered constantly at church. The list went on.</p><p>He got teased a lot in school then afterward. Blake and his family were some of the only true friends they had. The Walkers were some of the nicest and most humble people, and they too had a hatred for the press. One day around Christmas he and Blake decided that they wanted to get away from this city of vile rumor and spite, and signed up for the union military.</p><p>That made a small headline in itself 'Great-Grandson of our beloved Elder Ellie takes first steps to serve our Union's best.'</p><p>He felt bad about leaving his parents and grandparents, but they assured him they could handle anything thrown at them. And that if he wanted to do this, he had the right to.</p><p>“Hey! Aiden!” He jumped as apparently Blake had been trying to get his attention for some time. “I'm done, were you zoning out again?”</p><p>“Just thinking how I'm going to be SO happy to get out of this city.” The young man stood up with his package under shoulder. “Did you think of where we could go?”</p><p>“How about we stop by The Makineko! It's going to be bland tasteless army food from here on out, might as well treat ourselves to an evening of delicious savory sodium-packed delights” he grins.</p><p>“Of all the places you wanna go to, it's that one?” Aiden raised his brow. “I'd have thought since our ID gives us union discounts you would have wanted some kind of high class restraunt, or be like every other soldier in town right now and crowd into a saloon!”</p><p>“We aren't every other soldier Aiden.” Blake seems dead serious. “And those noodles are calling to me.”</p><p>“Alright alright. Let's drop our stuff off at my house and we'll go over to Makineko's later.” The tall young man rolls his eyes as they prepare to brave the rain. As fate would have it, the trolley had just arrived again.</p><p>“See, the spirits agree with me! They even sent us our carriage!” Blake puffs with vindication for his decision. “It's like fate!”</p><p>“Blake, you are the only person I know that would accept any co-incidence if it was for noodles.” Aiden steps up into the trolley and sits down on an empty seat.</p><p>Blake sits down right next to him with a bemused face. People getting on and off sometimes couldn't stop staring at his feet. “ . . . I mean, yeah.”</p><p>The trolley bell rang, and they began moving through the downtown street towards the next stop. “You know we still have three blocks to walk in the rain when we get to our street. We're not completely spared.”</p><p>“At least it's not twenty, Aiden. At least it's not twenty.”</p><p>As the downpour continued, and the day would progress, he would feel more and more light-hearted and at ease. This city would soon be behind him, and there was nothing else in the world that made him happier.</p>
  </div><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_foot_notes"><b>Author's Note:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>In tribute to Hummingfluff aka Minna Sundberg.</p></blockquote></div></div>
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